


Tired

by autisticblueteam



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Character(s), Fluff, Gen, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticblueteam/pseuds/autisticblueteam
Summary: After a particularly annoying mission, all Wash really wants to do is go to sleep. He's just got to get past a couple of distractions  to earn that privilege.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another tumblr prompt, this time for a 'forehead kiss'. This sorta ran away with me.

When Wash walked into his bunk that evening, he was certain that the second his head hit the pillow he’d be out like a light. And that wasn’t the sort of prediction he made lightly, knowing full well that on any other night there was a greater than seventy five percent chance he’d be awake until at least three in the morning. No, today’s mission had just been _that_ rough.

Groaning, he dragged himself over to his bed to grab his pyjamas and then through to the adjoining wet-room. It was an effort to pull off his normal civvies in favour of his night clothes, every muscle in his body _aching_ with every little movement he made. As he was pulling on his shirt he paused briefly, pressing his fingers into the purpling bruise covering his ribcage and made a mental note to use his EMP a little earlier, next time, before letting the material fall. He took one more moment to glance in the mirror, flinching at the sight of heavy bags under his eyes and the dark bruise up the side of his jaw. He decided to skip brushing his teeth.

His feet trailed heavily against the floor with every step; his legs all too happy to simply give in when he reached the edge of his bed. Really he should pull over the bed from the other side of the room, in preparation for Maine’s return from med-bay, but he was simply too _drained_ to even consider it. Within moments of his body hitting the mattress−that thin, uncomfortable mattress that felt like sleeping on a bed of bricks−he was half asleep where he sat. If he’d been given a few more seconds, he would have been out cold.

But instead he was stirred by the sound of the door sliding open, and the bright lights of the hallway filtering into the room blocked only by a small form standing in the doorway. So not Maine. Except that didn’t make sense, because no one else had their key code. So Wash frowned, opening his mouth ready to berate whoever this intruder was for interrupting his sleep−and breaking into their room, somehow−when the figure spoke.

“Hey, it’s just me,” They said in a soft, familiar voice that made Wash relax all but instantly.

Oh. Connie. Well, that made sense.

“Did I give you our code, or did you just hack the door?” He asked, rubbing his eyes as Connie stepped inside and the bright light disappeared abruptly.

Connie gave a little shrug, a tired but cheeky smile on her face as she sat down on the edge of the bed, “Well now that’s for me to know and you to never find out, sleepy head. Mission that rough, huh?”

“Cars hate me,” Wash said with a grumble, flopping back against the bed. He squinted as he peered up at her, fighting the haze of sleep, “No South tonight?”

Connie shook her head, hugging the warm looking hoodie−the purple colour giving it away as South’s immediately−tightly around herself.

“She’s on an overnight mission,” She said, pulling her legs up onto the bed. Wash grunted a little at the way it made the metal frame shift and creak, the look on his face apparently amusing enough to make Connie giggle a little, “Wow, Agent Grumpypants, what a face.”

He grunted, “Hate these beds.”

“I know you do. You don’t let us forget it,” Connie said, playfully rolling her eyes. Wash grunted again, scrunching his face up when her shifting made the frame groan once again, “Want me to lie down so the noises stop?”

A hand patted the bed next to him, which Connie took as a ‘yes’. Moving as carefully as possible to avoid making more grating noises she laid next to him, tucking herself up to his side with their heads level on the pillow. Slowly but surely, an arm wrapped around her waist and held her closer. Fingers began to play idly with the fabric of the hoodie, running the ribbed hem back and forth between them.

“Better?”

“Mmhm.”

“Good,” Connie smiled, reaching up a hand to poke his nose and laughing when his face screwed up.

“Don’t make me regret asking you to lie down. Or worse, make you get up and go back to your room _alone_.”

Connie imitated an offended gasp, “You’d _never_ do such a thing.”

“Don’t test me,” Wash replied, with absolutely no conviction behind his words. When he pulled Connie closer, they only lost merit.

Once again the room fell into a peaceful silence, the only sounds that of Wash and Connie’s alternating breathing as they laid there, comfortably entangled on the bed. For a while Wash continued to fiddle with the edge of Connie’s hoodie, enjoying the sensation between his fingers, until his hand drifted and found a much more satisfying texture−the shaved side of Connie’s head. It felt nice, not quite as prickly as Maine’s shaved head but close enough and with the added bonus that, in ‘retaliation’, Connie began to play with his hair in turn. Win-win.

Wash had almost fallen asleep again when the door opened the second time, barely a fraction of the light flooding the room as Maine’s much larger form blocked the way. When they looked around the room, seemingly confused and unable to spot Wash in the darkness, Connie raised a hand to wave and called their name softly. Only then did they seem to hone in on Wash’s bed, stepping inside and letting the door shut behind them.

The two heard, more than saw, Maine’s civvies fall to the floor and their night clothes replace them. They also heard more than saw the other bed moving across the metal floor−a horrible, horrible scraping sound that had both of them cringing−until it met the edge of Wash’s. Creaking quickly followed as Maine clambered on, laying on their side and poking Wash in the shoulder.

He groaned, batted at their hand.

“ _You_ c’mere.”

Maine grunted, “Off-centre.”

“Don’t care.”

“They have a point, Wash,” Connie said, reluctantly lifting her head from the pillow, “They’re just going to fall through the middle if they shuffle over this far.”

Wash groaned again, throwing his arm almost dramatically across his eyes, “But I don’t wanna move. I _ache_. Why do cars have to hate me so much? _Why?_ What did I ever do to them?”

Connie blinked, “Okay, so he’s _very_ tired. What even _was_ your mission today?”

“Annoying,” Was Maine’s only response.

Connie paused for a second, but then just shrugged. Fair answer.

“Come on,” She said, nudging Wash’s side, “Shift.”

Heaving a sigh, Wash pushed himself up just enough to shuffle over to the side. It was a lot of effort to move, and _god_ did his side ache, but as Maine all but enveloped him in a warm embrace it proved to be worth it. He melted into the familiar warmth, burying his head against their chest; he could hear their heartbeat like this, and the soft rumbling of their noises. It wasn’t longer after that when Connie joined them again, tucking her head against Wash’s neck and wrapping her arms around him as one of his encircled her waist.

This was just about perfect.

“Why didn’t you get back _sooner_?” Wash mumbled, burying his head more against Maine’s chest. Maine chuckled lightly, the rumbling sound hitting Wash in the chest in the best way, and laced their fingers into his hair. Immediately Wash melted further, letting out a soft purr, “ _Cheater_.”

“Cheater at what, sleepyhead?” Another set of fingers brushed through his hair, settling at the base of his neck twirling a strand. Wash’s purrs grew louder, and he almost whined.

“ _Everything_. Ever.”

For that, Maine buried his face further into their chest, smooshing his nose. Wash didn’t even protest, much too tired and blissed out by this point. Being so exhausted meant that every sensation was heightened by ten times, but that went just as much for positive sensations as negative. And all of this input? It was _so positive_ , it was almost overwhelming.

Connie smiled, patted his face, “Alright mister, I think you need to actually go to sleep now.”

“I’ve been _trying_ , but you two are _distracting_ ,” Wash grumbled, raising his head to look at her. Connie, ever so mature as she was, stuck her tongue out in retaliation for the comment. Wash, in turn, was about to mimic the gesture.

However before he could he was distracted by the soft press of lips to his forehead, smoothing out the crease in his brow and setting off a pleasant spark. The kiss quickly became an affectionate nuzzle, easing Wash into a sense of safety and relaxation even beyond what he felt already.

Until, at last, his eyes flickered shut and his breathing evened out as he slipped into a comfortable sleep.

Maine chuckled softly, brushing his hair from his face and pressing another kiss to his forehead. Wash mumbled incoherently in his sleep, nuzzling closer to them instinctively. At the same time, the arm around Connie’s waist tucked her a little closer.

With a light laugh of her own she rested her head on his shoulder, glancing up at Maine where they lay on Wash’s other side. They raised an open hand to hover in front of their forehead, drawing their fingers in to touch their thumb as it moved downwards towards their chin. Connie nodded at that, yawning almost as if on cue, and closed her eyes.

“Night, Maine.”

Maine settled down with a soft grunt, draping their free arm loosely over the other agents. It wasn’t long before the two of them joined Wash in his sleep, enveloped in the feeling of security each other’s presence offered.


End file.
